The Tale of Armando, Part 4
(Are you getting tired of my Armando story yet? Am I spinning this tale Christopher Paolini style, dragging it out by adding too many unimportant details? I hope not! Well, here is the conclusion of my ill-starred non-relationship with poor Armando.)
Nine months later, I got the news that I was going to be transferred back into my old stomping grounds, the branch where Armando lived. It surprised me that they would send me back there after the previous problem, but my new companion Mairi had been in the MTC with me and had specifically requested me as her companion. Since we were both nearing the end of our missions, my mission president decided that was OK. He did consult with his Assistants (elders who were assigned to work with the mission president and as leaders over the rest of the missionaries) first, and one of them was none other than Elder Zirker, my old zone leader. Zirker had reassured our mission president that I had made a bigger deal out of the issue than necessary and that there would be no problems sending me back to the area. (I learned this from another elder who also became an AP when we were chatting back home after our missions.) In any case, I was glad to be Mairi's companion and I hoped that I wouldn't have any problems. Technically, we would only be assigned to the branch Armando belonged to for a very short time as we were supposed to be opening a new area that adjoined it. But the new apartment was not ready yet so they had assigned us to live in the apartment with the other sisters assigned to Armando's branch.
Armando proved his dogged devotion to me the very first night that we worked in the area. After a very long day, we were tiredly trudging up the street to our house after dark when someone slid up and started walking beside us. It was Armando, and it was like he came out of nowhere. I don't know where he first saw us, or how long he had been following us-- our apartment was many blocks away from his and we had gone nowhere near it. It spooked both Mairi and I. How had he known that I was back in the area the very first day I had returned?
For the next few weeks he showed up every night on our return to the apartment, trailed us for awhile and then silently walked next to me. It was freaky. Armando also started coming to church again, and I wasn't the only one to notice the connection. One of the young women in the branch observed to me that Armando had quit coming to church right after I had been transferred and had only come back again once I was back in the branch. I complained about it to my leaders and was told not to worry since soon we would be moving to a new apartment and working in our new area. Problem solved, right?
However, the new apartment kept having problems and so when our change of area came, they kept us living in the same apartment. It was during this time period (when we were still having frequent stalking visits from Armando) that I found out the creepiest bit of Armando-worship of all . . . he had my name-- my FIRST name-- tattooed all the way down his arm. This was information that I had never given him. I had always only gone by Hermana (which is "Sister" in Spanish) Leavitt. It infuriated me quite a bit. Obviously he had gotten that little fact from another missionary, and nobody would fess up to it. It scared me, quite honestly. Why was he so fixated on me, and who was helping him find out about me?
One evening during our visit from the stalker on the way home, I told him that I was nearly done with my mission and would be returning home to California soon. I hoped that it would discourage him and that he would see that he had no future with me whatsoever. At this point he pestered me for my phone number. I hesitated, but being the pushover that I am, I made a decision that was the second thing I regret from this whole debacle. I gave him my home phone number, but I also knew that my parents were moving within the month and the phone number would be disconnected. (Really, I should have just been honest with him and told him not to call me.) But Armando was happy enough with my concession, having no inkling that I might not be totally honest with him.
Shortly after the phone number exchange, Mairi and I were transferred into a new apartment. I was relieved to be away from Armando again at last. But my relief didn't last long. Soon he was calling me at the new apartment, though I absolutely never gave him that phone number. I kept pretending to be unavailable and the other missionaries I lived with went along with me. Then for my very last month in the mission I moved again. Guess what? He got my new phone number again. This time the sisters I lived with were not in the loop about Armando, and he managed to get me on the phone. He was angry with me though. He had figured out that the California phone number I had given him was no good. I was quite embarrassed; I hadn't expected him to try it until after I had left New York at least. I never expected to be confronted with my deception directly! Then Armando dropped his bombshell on me. He needed the phone number that worked because he had to call and get my dad's permission for my hand.
WHAT??!!
I hurriedly explained to him that we weren't getting married so he didn't need my dad's permission for anything. After that he was quiet for awhile. "But then why did you accept the ring?" he asked, subdued.
ZIRKER! If he had been there I might have lost my cool and cursed him out. Why had he never given the poor boy his ring back? Turns out that Armando thought I had gladly accepted the engagement ring (yes, it was an engagement ring) and that we were indeed going to get married after my mission. No wonder he had tattooed my name on his arm! He thought he was showing his devotion to his fiancee!
Craziness.
Though I felt sorry for him, I wasn't about to marry the silent stalker boy who gave me the creeps. I think he finally understood that after that final phone call. I never did find out who among the missionaries kept giving him my new phone numbers though. Or who had told him I was back in the area or where we lived so he could waylay us on the walk home every night.
At least Zirker got a free engagement ring out of it. I wonder what he did with it?
Nine months later, I got the news that I was going to be transferred back into my old stomping grounds, the branch where Armando lived. It surprised me that they would send me back there after the previous problem, but my new companion Mairi had been in the MTC with me and had specifically requested me as her companion. Since we were both nearing the end of our missions, my mission president decided that was OK. He did consult with his Assistants (elders who were assigned to work with the mission president and as leaders over the rest of the missionaries) first, and one of them was none other than Elder Zirker, my old zone leader. Zirker had reassured our mission president that I had made a bigger deal out of the issue than necessary and that there would be no problems sending me back to the area. (I learned this from another elder who also became an AP when we were chatting back home after our missions.) In any case, I was glad to be Mairi's companion and I hoped that I wouldn't have any problems. Technically, we would only be assigned to the branch Armando belonged to for a very short time as we were supposed to be opening a new area that adjoined it. But the new apartment was not ready yet so they had assigned us to live in the apartment with the other sisters assigned to Armando's branch.
Armando proved his dogged devotion to me the very first night that we worked in the area. After a very long day, we were tiredly trudging up the street to our house after dark when someone slid up and started walking beside us. It was Armando, and it was like he came out of nowhere. I don't know where he first saw us, or how long he had been following us-- our apartment was many blocks away from his and we had gone nowhere near it. It spooked both Mairi and I. How had he known that I was back in the area the very first day I had returned?
For the next few weeks he showed up every night on our return to the apartment, trailed us for awhile and then silently walked next to me. It was freaky. Armando also started coming to church again, and I wasn't the only one to notice the connection. One of the young women in the branch observed to me that Armando had quit coming to church right after I had been transferred and had only come back again once I was back in the branch. I complained about it to my leaders and was told not to worry since soon we would be moving to a new apartment and working in our new area. Problem solved, right?
However, the new apartment kept having problems and so when our change of area came, they kept us living in the same apartment. It was during this time period (when we were still having frequent stalking visits from Armando) that I found out the creepiest bit of Armando-worship of all . . . he had my name-- my FIRST name-- tattooed all the way down his arm. This was information that I had never given him. I had always only gone by Hermana (which is "Sister" in Spanish) Leavitt. It infuriated me quite a bit. Obviously he had gotten that little fact from another missionary, and nobody would fess up to it. It scared me, quite honestly. Why was he so fixated on me, and who was helping him find out about me?
One evening during our visit from the stalker on the way home, I told him that I was nearly done with my mission and would be returning home to California soon. I hoped that it would discourage him and that he would see that he had no future with me whatsoever. At this point he pestered me for my phone number. I hesitated, but being the pushover that I am, I made a decision that was the second thing I regret from this whole debacle. I gave him my home phone number, but I also knew that my parents were moving within the month and the phone number would be disconnected. (Really, I should have just been honest with him and told him not to call me.) But Armando was happy enough with my concession, having no inkling that I might not be totally honest with him.
Shortly after the phone number exchange, Mairi and I were transferred into a new apartment. I was relieved to be away from Armando again at last. But my relief didn't last long. Soon he was calling me at the new apartment, though I absolutely never gave him that phone number. I kept pretending to be unavailable and the other missionaries I lived with went along with me. Then for my very last month in the mission I moved again. Guess what? He got my new phone number again. This time the sisters I lived with were not in the loop about Armando, and he managed to get me on the phone. He was angry with me though. He had figured out that the California phone number I had given him was no good. I was quite embarrassed; I hadn't expected him to try it until after I had left New York at least. I never expected to be confronted with my deception directly! Then Armando dropped his bombshell on me. He needed the phone number that worked because he had to call and get my dad's permission for my hand.
WHAT??!!
I hurriedly explained to him that we weren't getting married so he didn't need my dad's permission for anything. After that he was quiet for awhile. "But then why did you accept the ring?" he asked, subdued.
ZIRKER! If he had been there I might have lost my cool and cursed him out. Why had he never given the poor boy his ring back? Turns out that Armando thought I had gladly accepted the engagement ring (yes, it was an engagement ring) and that we were indeed going to get married after my mission. No wonder he had tattooed my name on his arm! He thought he was showing his devotion to his fiancee!
Craziness.
Though I felt sorry for him, I wasn't about to marry the silent stalker boy who gave me the creeps. I think he finally understood that after that final phone call. I never did find out who among the missionaries kept giving him my new phone numbers though. Or who had told him I was back in the area or where we lived so he could waylay us on the walk home every night.
At least Zirker got a free engagement ring out of it. I wonder what he did with it?
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